Wednesday, 11 April 2012

Sounds of not writing

I promised myself I would write a post today, for it has been far too long since I've shown you more than photographs and quotes. I'm putting my heart and soul into writing at the moment, yet this strangely doesn't seem to have transferred to my blog. Bare with me, give me time. So here I am. Showing up. A little ill at ease, not quite knowing where to begin, as is often the case after time away from a space. I'm not in a particularly cheerful state of mind either, but my intentions for this blog is for it to be an honest space, an opportunity to share the good times and the bad like you would do with a good friend. And so I choose to share a poem I wrote yesterday evening, when the dreaded stuckedness threatened to take over. I didn't think anything productive could come of my frowns and sighs, however the poem that emerged is a part of me. It may not be beautiful or well crafted but it feels raw and real. 

Sounds of not writing

Rain thumps
Fierce races
With haphazard rhythms.
Why does it always rain on me? (I hum)

A vibrating fridge
Demanding audience
Beginning again.
Is she still there
That little girl from the story book
Holding the inside light?
A creaking desk
How can not yet written words intimidate 
Dictator style?
An invisible elephant in the room
Sucking oxygen with deafening silence.
Poor elephant
who put her in a restricted space?
Mind chatter
Jumbled strings of graphemes
Crash and twirl
Without pause it seems.
Can anyone else hear how loud it is?

1 comment:

  1. Who hasn't heard that loud cacophony of nothingness? The mind chatters but it won't produce (at least not what we want or think we want). Your poem describes that feeling well. And so - no matter how blocked you may have felt, you did create. I like the elephant in the room, too!